The Burden of Responsibility
by Desrathaus
Summary: I've always wondered what Burke meant by his "very important work".
1. Yours, Very Truly

There was nothing slight about his emotions towards the girl. The moment she stepped into that cess pool of a bar, he had his sights set. She looked innocent enough; naive, stupid. Burke had told Moriarty that he was looking for an "opportunist". Maybe this girl was just naive enough to disregard the lives she was taking. A grin spread across his face; he had found his pawn.

Yet when she opened her mouth, he was taken aback. Burke would dare to say that she was educated. Could it be that in fact he had stumbled upon a much more rare treasure? A civilized being in this society of barbarians? But all of his preconceptions were gone from his mind the moment she ran her hand over his inner thigh, and with half-hooded eyes, said, "I live here, lover. Surely, you wouldn't want to hurt me..." She kneeled down, her hand still wandering, dangerously invigorating Burke.

This feeling had never come over Burke, this almost flustered state that had him stumbling at every bat of her lashes. Oh, how the tables had turned; Burke was the pawn, and he couldn't love the feeling more. "I'll think of something," he spat out, clutching his chair as her hand inched unbearably slowly over the thin material of his suit. "You wait here, my dear," and he was off, practically jogging to Tenpenny Tower, his arousal evident.

_Beloved,_

_I must beg your indulgence a little while longer. I am not yet able to send for you. Stay in Megaton. Once my business has concluded, I will send for you, and we will live happily as man and woman._

_The memory of your beauty and sweet aroma lingers in my memory..._

_Have patience my love._

_Soon. Soon we shall be together once again!_

_Your's very truly,_

_Burke _

Burke might has well as been floating on a cloud through Tenpenny Tower. After he had explained to Allistair that the bomb had been disarmed and that Megaton must stand another day, he walked away to his suite with a grin plastered on his face. He was no spritely man - though he did well, he thought, for his age - but Burke found himself nearly breaking into a skip as he walked. And Allistair seemed to pick up on this.

"So this bomb? You say it's disarmed?"

"Yes, Mr. Tenpenny. I'm very sorry."

"... Interesting."

And after an appraising gaze from Allistair, Burke found himself being sent across the Wasteland for some meaningless job that could've been assigned to a true underling. Didn't Tenpenny realize the power Burke wielded? Surely; he was Allistair's "right-hand man", as the guards refered to him. But when Burke attempted to reason, Tenpenny simply said "I can't trust the matter to anyone else, Burke."

That was that.

Burke would have to wait to see his beloved again.


	2. Very Important Work

_Beloved,_

_The pain of your absence is at times crippling. But I must persevere. I must! It is very important work I am doing for mankind._

_Oh, but I wish I could sweep it all away to be with you now!_

_Be patient love. I will send for you soon._

_Your's very truly,_

_Burke _

And he couldn't have meant those words more intensely. "Make sure this gets to Moriarty's Saloon in Megaton, or I swear, I will hunt you and all of your ignorant little friends and family down. And I am a man of my word." Rolling his eyes, he thought of the words he wrote as one of the bafoons Tenpenny had gotten jogged toward the horizon. _"It is very important work I am doing for mankind."_

_Indeed_, Burke thought bitterly. _It's __**very**__ important work, isn't it, Mr. Tenpenny? _Being sent out to some backwards town in the ass-end of nowhere is surely critical for his species' well-being. Allistair had explained that he was to search for a rare scope for his prized sniper rifle. And as he thought, Burke couldn't help but imagine himself blugeoning the man with that very sniper rifle.

"Quickly, we need to move on," Burke spoke in an urgent, commanding tone to the three men that stood at the camp, absently sipping their drinks. "But boss," one began to explain, "we're ahead of schedule. Why don't we-"

"Excuse me?" Burke's glasses covered his eyes, but his voice betrayed everything. Immediately, the two other men averted their gaze, looking downward at their feet. "Did Mr. Tenpenny put you in command?"

Now, the mercenary being scolded looked down at his feet as a child before punishment.

"Well?"

"You're in command... Mr. Burke."

"Yes. And maybe, before you open your mouth and share your daft, thick-witted assertions, you might do us all a favor, and keep them to yourself."

There was no response.

"Do you understand?" Burke emphasised each word dramatically, grinning inwardly.

"Yes... Mr. Burke."

And the three were packing up the small camp as Burke looked over his shoulder at the man still jogging toward Megaton.

"Let us hope your friend has more sense than you."

Burke was sure he was the only one hoping.


	3. A Man of Responsibility

The time had finally come; Burke was home.

His days spent searching in the Wasteland, asking the barbaric citizens of the Waste about parts for an insignificant scope were finally over. Tenpenny Tower was again under his feet, and nothing felt more wonderful than that. Except, of course, that soft, immaculate hand running across his thigh. Burke wasn't sure what he was going to do with himself as he thought back to that day, nearly two weeks ago.

"Mr. Tenpenny," Burke began, nodding his head as he walked on to Allistair's balcony. "I've found your scope." Looking from the horizon to Burke, Allistair smiled. "That's wonderful news, Burke." The part sat in Burke's hand, unmoving just as Burke's impatient and expectant gaze. "... Sir? Would you like to use it now?"

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Burke, but that's all right; set it on my desk, in my room."

Impulsively, Burke's hands clenched into fists. And now, as he had a week ago, he imagined himself blugeoning the fool with the Sniper Rifle that sat at his side. "Very important work indeed," Burke hissed, attempting to no avail to remain respectful.

Allistair calmly looked up at Burke. "Oh, it was, Burke! Don't you think otherwise. Remember, everything we do will allow us to spread the civility that Tenpenny Tower has housed across the Wasteland. There will be no tribes, no 'Megaton's, no need to protect ourselves from the devolved state of society. One day, Burke, the Wasteland will be no longer a wasteland. And it will be all thanks to us."

"And surely, your sniper rifle's well being is critical to that plan?"

A chuckle escaped Allistair. "You will see in time."

_Beloved,_

_The pain of our separation is unbearable. I miss you terribly._

_I cherish the memory of our brief time together._

_Send me a letter, won't you? Send it to Tenpenny Tower. They'll be sure to get it to me._

_Oh, be patient a little while longer, my little song bird. Soon we will be free of our cages, and our love will soar to the heavens above!_

_Your's very truly,_

_Burke _

Sighing, Burke looked down at the letter. How complete he would feel, how whole, if she were only here. _In fact, if __**she **__were here, _Burke thought, and a devilish smile spread across his face.

Their reunion would have to wait a while longer. But Burke always had his imagination.


	4. The Greater Good

This couldn't be happening.

No, no, no.

Burke couldn't leave the tower. Not again. But it would seem that despite Burke's protests and his tireless work to allow for spare time for his beloved - the woman that haunted his every thought - Tenpenny was again sending him on a wild goose chase to some obscure town across the blighted nation.

Bursting through the doors to the balcony, Burke glared down at his superior. "I've had enough, Allistair. Why do you do this? I've worked years for you, never questioning you. Never allowing my own opinions to interfere with your wishes. And now, it seems that I am the only one making that effort. I only ask for a week, Mr. Tenpenny, yet you can't even allow me that!"

The guard outside of Allistair's room raise his eyebrows as he heard the very clear boom of Burke's voice.

"But you're missing my point, Burke! This woman-"

"How do you know about her?"

"Oh, Burke. I'm not as senial as you think. I can see infatuation when it is so obnoxiously evident. You need to see past this haze, Burke! And if I must force you away from her, so be it, even if she came to the tower in search of you."

Instantly, Burke's chest tightened. "S-she was here? Where was I?"

"Gone. As I had planned."

"Do you understand, Allistair? Do you understand what you've done? I can't live like this! With this constant aching, with this love!"

"But Burke, that is what I want you to understand; it is not love, and it is not fate, and it is not your destiny to be with her. Your work is so much more critical than a fling with some Wasteland whore."

And as the words left Allistair's mouth, he saw the change in Burke. A fist flew towards his face, and he knew what would soon happen. Allistair's head snapped back as Burke's fist connected. "You shut your god damn mouth!" Burke growled, and as soon as the rage had come, it was gone. "I... I'm sorry, Mr. Tenpenny."

Allistair wiped the stream of blood coming from his nose. "Quickly, Burke, get me a towel."

Burke stood still, his fist still balled. "Why must you seperate us?"

"It is a sacrifice you must make. Power cannot be held when someone rules you as absolutely as she does. And when these people finally realize the dignity that comes with civilization, they will need a leader, Burke. They will need you."

_I can not live like this. Wanting you. NEEDING you! But unable to have you._

_I'm afraid I must insist we cease this charade._

_I beg your forgiveness. I'm sorry to have made you wait in that hell-hole for so long. Waiting for the summons to my side that never came._

_Fly free my little love bird. Fly up and out of that filth._

_I wish that I could have you, and the thought of another man getting to have you, breaks my heart._

_But I'd rather you were set free, than waiting eternally for me. I'm growing tired of this burden of mine. This toiling away for humanity, building a new world for mankind. I'm not even sure they will appreciate all the efforts I am making for them. But it is a burden I shall continue to carry, because someone must. And I am a man of responsibility,_

_Good luck my love-bird. Fly free and be happy!_

_Your's truly,_

_Burke _

Burke's shaking hand sets down the pen at his desk. He reads the letter again, and again. The words aren't enough; he will never be able to say everything he feels for her. He folds the letter delicately, precisely lining up each corner. And as he walks out of the door of his suite, he takes a final look around the room. It is prestine. The bed is dressed in some of the softest sheets in the Wasteland; it is not dank air that fills his lungs, but the fresh atmosphere that air conditioning provides. It is a life most Wastelanders would kill for.

As Burke straightens his tie, he knows that the letter in his hand will be the last contact with the only thing in _his_ life worth killing for; he would damn the fate of civilization in a heart beat, damn the very building he stands in, damn the man he works for, to have her in his arms. But that will never be an option, and that will never be their fate.

His songbird - his life, his passion, his lust - will always transcend the limits of his reach. And that is the way it must be, for humanity.


End file.
